history of lust

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I’m sitting in a chair in my office/studio wearing panties and a tank top. I am usually in bed writing these posts but my room is off limits for the time being.

I’ve been busy with life and that can be a drag when it comes to trying to maintain an online life.

I miss sucking cock. I suppose you have to be orally fixated to understand that statement. It’s like being thirsty and not being able to quench your thirst. In this case, cock in my mouth.

The last time I saw him, he was sick and I really tried to behave.

Honestly.

He was telling me about something and my hand reached under the covers and started to trace around his dick that was hidden in boxers. I couldn’t kiss him. I couldn’t even go down on him but I kept touching him. Slowly his cock hardened and I unraveled it from the fabric contraption that is as annoying as the hooks on a bra. I stroked him slowly and every so often I would get filled with this undying, horny rage that I would squeeze his cock really hard.

His hand traveled from my thigh to between my legs. Without any effort, he pushed aside the panties and teased the wetness that was pooling. He knew what I wanted more than anything was for his fingers to be buried deep inside and yet he toyed with me by barely pushing a fingertip inside. I tried to turn my cunt into a suction vacuum making his finger properly penetrate me and he continued to tease. The slut in me needed to be filled and I started to push towards his finger.

Just when I felt like I was going to whimper.

Just when I felt like I was going to beg.

Just when I was going to cry out.

His finger pushed inside and I came. When I say I came, I flooded his hand, the sheets and half the bed. The anticipation caused every ounce of this ongoing wet orgasm. If you haven’t learned about anticipation while fucking someone mentally or physically, you better learn.